Drunken Ramblings, Sober Thoughts
by honestlydarkprincess
Summary: Clarke calls Octavia, drunk, and needing help getting home from their favourite bar, Grounders. However, Octavia's got an early work day in the morning so Bellamy volunteers to go get her. Cue some awkward confessions that Clarke didn't mean for Bellamy to hear. Does it work out in the end or did Clarke just get in the middle of Bellamy's relationship with Gina? - Modern AU.


**Hey!**

 **O** **kay, so I love Drunk Clarke and I wanna write a bunch of drunk Clarke fics. But I didn't want to add them all to my modern AU collection** **so I decided to make a series called "The Chronicles of Drunk Clarke". This is the first part and I hope you like it!**

 **Enjoy :)**

* * *

As per their weekly sibling tradition, Bellamy and Octavia were sprawled out in Bellamy's living room, lounging around and watching Netflix, when Clarke called.

Bellamy looked over as Octavia's phone started to ring since all their close friends knew about their tradition and tried not to interrupt their sibling time unless something urgent came up or there was an emergency. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, to which Octavia just shrugged and mouthed, _it's Clarke_. That had Bellamy sitting up straighter, hoping everything was alright with his favourite princess.

"Clarke?" Octavia says when she answers the phone and Clarke's reply is so loud Bellamy can hear it from where he's sitting.

"Octavia!" Clarke squeals, bringing a smile to Bellamy's face. Clarke was a goofy drunk and Bellamy loved every second of it; provided she was safe, of course. Octavia shot him a knowing look; she knew exactly what he was thinking by the soft, silly grin on his lips.

"Hi, Clarke," Octavia said softly when Clarke didn't say anything after saying O's name. "What's up?"

"I'm at Grounders," Clarke giggled, stumbling over her words. "I need youuuu."

"I'll be right there, hun," Octavia sighed, rolling her eyes fondly. "Sit tight and stay where you are, okay?"

"Okay!" Clarke says eagerly. "Love you!"

Octavia snorts. "I love you too. See you soon."

Octavia hung up and sighed. When she stood, she saw Bellamy already at the door, tugging on his shoes and shrugging on his leather jacket.

"Where are you going?" Octavia asks, even though she already knew the answer.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. "To pick up the Princess. You have to get to work early tomorrow and I have the day off."

"Shit, I forgot. You're right, I should get home," Octavia says, checking the time on her phone and moving a bit quicker when she realized it was way later than she thought it was.

Bellamy waited for her at the door while she collected her things and they walked down to the lobby of the building together. Outside, they went their separate ways. Bellamy gave Octavia a kiss on the forehead, as per tradition, and Octavia gave him a big hug and made him promise to text her as soon as he got Clarke home, safe and sound.

Bellamy climbed into his car and started the short drive to their favourite bar and his summer place of work, Grounders.

When he pulled into the parking area, he looked around for Clarke's car but couldn't find it. Either she had gotten a ride or she'd walked. Their apartment wasn't all that far from Grounders so it wasn't impossible. Well, that made things a bit easier, now that he didn't have to worry about getting her car back to the apartment.

Bellamy entered the bar and started looking for the blonde. Raven was working the bar tonight and waved him over as soon as she saw him. Wordlessly, she nodded her head to the crumpled form half sitting, half lying on the bar. Bellamy sighed, it looked like Clarke was drunker than he thought.

"Thanks, Raven," He said softly as he approached the bar and she gave him a smile before moving towards a patron at the end of the bar who was waving her over.

"Princess?" Bellamy whispered as he shook her shoulder lightly, not wanting to startle her. When he looked closer, he saw that she was dozing and shook her shoulder with a little bit more force.

Clarke groaned as she lifted her head to look at the person shaking her.

"Octavia?" She slurred, looking at him through blurry eyes.

"No, it's Bellamy," He replied, grabbing her sweater and purse as he waited for her to recognize him.

For a moment, she continued to look at him with confused, sleepy eyes, before suddenly lighting up and grinning widely, "Bell'my!"

Bellamy chuckled, "Yes, Princess, it's me. Let's get you home."

"Okay!" Clarke said eagerly. "Take me home."

Bellamy helped Clarke get her sweater on, it took a few tries because Clarke kept giggling and getting distracted. Bellamy hide a smile, he really loved it when Clarke was giddy like this, it was absolutely adorable.

"Alright, let's go," Bellamy said, wrapping an arm around Clarke and guiding her out of the bar, stopping to send Raven a wave. Raven grinned back and winked before she went back to the drink she was mixing.

"Bell'my," Clarke slurred urgently, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket.

"Yeah, Princess?" Bellamy replied absently, focused on making sure Clarke walked straight for the last few steps to where his car was parked.

"'M cold," Clarke whined, shivering dramatically and looking at him with her signature kitten eyes, knowing that he could never resist her when she gave him those eyes.

Bellamy sighed fondly before shrugging out of his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. Clarke sighed happily and nuzzled the collar of the jacket, breathing in his scent.

"Smells like you," Clarke whispers contently, closing her eyes momentarily.

Bellamy sucked in a sharp breath as he took in the sight of Clarke in his clothes. It was just a jacket but still. It's hard enough being around Clarke usually, given that he's pretty much in love with her and can't do anything about it, but seeing her in his clothes makes his stomach clench and his veins burn with something dark and possessive.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts and focuses on taking care of Clarke. He gets her in the car and buckles her seatbelt.

"Thank you, Bell'my," Clarke says, closing her eyes and curling up against the door when he closes it gently.

"Anything for you, Princess," Bellamy whispered to himself, knowing that Clarke can't hear him.

He gets into the car and looks over at the drunk blonde, realizing that she's already fallen asleep. The drive home is quiet, the only sound filling the car is the gentle rumble of the engine and the soft, cute, little snores coming from the tiny blonde in his passenger seat.

Bellamy pulled into their apartment building's garage and parked. He got out and made his way over to the passenger side of the car. Thankfully, Clarke woke up when the lulling motion of the car stopped, so she doesn't fall out of the car when he opened the door.

Bellamy looked at her expectantly, knowing from previous interactions with drunk-Clarke that she doesn't like being treated like a child, so he doesn't try to help her out of the car. His brows scrunch together in confusion when Clarke just looks right back at him, not making any move to get out of the car.

"Clarke?"

Clarke just reaches her arms up and whines, "Carry me!"

"What?" Bellamy's more confused than ever but that doesn't stop him from reaching out for Clarke and scooping her up into his arms. Clarke wraps her arms around his neck and settles her head on his shoulder, humming happily and nuzzling his throat.

Bellamy could feel her mumble something against his neck as he shut the car door with his hip, fumbling with his keys to lock up.

"Sorry, I didn't hear that, Princess," Bellamy murmurs. "Can you say that again?"

Clarke huffs sadly and moved away a little bit from his neck so he could hear her this time. "I want to be close to you before I lose you."

"Why would you lose me, Clarke?" Bellamy asked urgently, fear settling deep his in belly at the thought of being separated from her.

But Clarke just whined and buried her face in his neck again. He tightened his arms around her and made his way to the elevator, and then to their apartment, all the while deep in thought.

Why on earth would Clarke think she was going to lose him? Yeah, they hadn't seen each other much in the last few week but that's only because their schedules never seemed to match up, one of them always having an obligation to attend to, usually a work thing.

He had noticed that Clarke had a little bit distant lately. Honestly, ever since he had started dating Gina, something had changed between him and Clarke and he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what.

He had spent the last few weeks trying to figure that out and maybe that's why Gina had broken up with him. It had been amicable, with her reasoning that there was no use being in a relationship with him when he was already in love with someone else. But, other than that, he couldn't think of anything that would have given Clarke the impression that she was going to lose him.

Bellamy shook himself from his thoughts when he noticed that he was at their door. He set Clarke down gently and she whined at the loss of contact. He murmured soothingly to her, explaining that he just needed to unlock the door so he could get her inside. Clarke curled against him, burying her face in his chest and Bellamy tried to not like it so much. It didn't mean anything- she was drunk. Clarke was a tactile drunk, and even though it was usually Bellamy that she sought out touch from when she was drunk, it didn't mean anything. It didn't.

Bellamy got the door unlocked and coaxed Clarke inside their apartment, making sure to lock the door behind them. He set his keys down in the bowl and gave Clarke a gentle push towards her bedroom.

"Go get ready for bed, Princess, and I'll be right in with some water and Advil," Bellamy said, sighing in relief when Clarke just nodded and didn't put up a fight.

Bellamy took an extra few minutes in the kitchen getting Clarke's water and pills. He texted Octavia, as promised, telling her that Clarke was home safe and sound. He contemplated asking Octavia if maybe she knew why Clarke thought she was going to lose him, but at the last moment decided not too. He'd just ask Clarke in the morning when she was sober.

He knocked lightly on the door before entering but stopped in confusion when there was no sign of Clarke. He glanced in her bathroom but she wasn't there either. He left her room and looked around the apartment, becoming more and more confused as the seconds ticked by. It wasn't a very big apartment, so there weren't many places for her to be, much less hide in.

Finally, he decided to check his room and stopped short at the sight of Clarke laying on his bed, dozing lightly and peacefully. She had stripped out of her leggings and had stolen a pair of his sweatpants. They hung low on her hips and the only other thing she was wearing was a black sports bra. He stared at the expanse of skin that was being revealed to him for a moment before feeling like a jackass. He tried to distract himself by looking around the room and Bellamy noticed her clothes folded neatly on his desk chair. Which was weird in and of itself because Clarke hated cleaning and picking up after herself generally but it was even worse when she was drunk.

"Clarke?" He asked, bewildered. He was still standing in the doorway holding a bottle of water and bottle of Advil, feeling like a creep for staring at his best friend.

Clarke's eyes fluttered open and she curled on her side, curving her arm around the soft skin of her exposed stomach protectively.

"I'm sorry," She whispered in a broken voice, staring at him with bleary eyes. "Just, please? Can I sleep here tonight? I know Gina might not like it but I just really need to be close to you tonight. I won't try anything and I promise I'll be back in my own bed tomorrow night. Just, please, Bellamy."

Bellamy stood there, shocked and confused at both her words and the fact that she had strung together a coherent sentence in the shape she was in. Another thing Clarke was not known for when drunk: eloquence.

"Of course, Princess," He said, finally moving and setting the water bottle and pill bottle on his nightstand. "I'll take the couch."

Clarke whined miserably and Bellamy felt protectiveness surge in his chest, wanting to make whatever was making her so sad stop.

"Can you stay here with me?" Clarke begged, further confusing Bellamy because Clarke never begged. He hadn't known it was possible to be this confused in one night but here he was.

"Okay…?" Bellamy muttered, knowing that this was a terrible idea. He also knew he was going to do it regardless because when has Bellamy Blake ever been able to deny Clarke Griffin? She was going to be the end of him.

He pushed all his thoughts aside and nodded his head. She was drunk and needed a friend. That was all this was and he knew that. Even if she wanted more, he would absolutely not have that conversation with her until she was sober and fully in control of her actions.

He shucked his jeans and tugged on a pair of comfortable sweatpants, much like the ones Clarke had stolen from him. He hesitated before removing his shirt because, as much as he hated sleeping with a shirt, the last thing he wanted to do was make Clarke uncomfortable in the morning. But Clarke just whined impatiently and patted the space next to her. He threw the shirt over to the laundry basket and missed, deciding to deal with it the morning. He shut off the light and climbed into the bed next to Clarke.

As soon as he had settled down and made himself comfy, Clarke was settling herself half on his chest and half curled against his side. Clarke relaxed until she was almost boneless against him but Bellamy remained frozen and stiff. He really wasn't sure what to do in this situation.

Clarke wiggled unhappily as he laid there, stiff and unmoving for a few more seconds, and pulled his arm around her, snuggling against him.

Slowly, Bellamy started to relax and started rubbing slow, soothing circles on Clarke's exposed back, knowing that that was her favourite comfort when she had had a little too much to drink. He had actually found that out by accident but the knowledge had definitely come in handy when he had an unhappy, drunk Clarke on his hands. Which, was a lot more often than Clarke would ever admit.

Bellamy could feel her measured, even breaths puff against his chest and, figuring that she was falling asleep, if not already asleep, closed his eyes.

But, a few minutes later, just when Bellamy was starting to doze off, he felt her speak against his chest.

"Please don't marry Gina."

Bellamy's eyes flew open in shock. If he was able to twist his head and look at her, he would've, but with the position his head was in, he settled for sending the ceiling a confused look.

"What? Who said I was marrying Gina? Why don't you want me to get married?" Bellamy asked, his confusion reached new heights and that was saying a lot given the night he had had.

Clarke whined again, "I do want you to get married! Just not to Gina."

"What's wrong with Gina?"

"She's not me," Clarke replied quietly, almost whispering.

Bellamy froze and stopped breathing. Had Clarke really just said what he thought she had said? He hoped to whoever was listening that this wasn't the alcohol talking.

"W-What?" He stuttered, millions of thoughts racing through his mind.

"It should be me," Clarke croaked, voice cracking. "I should be the person you marry. I should be the person you buy a house with, share a mortgage with, who you come home to every night….who you have kids with…all that stupid bullshit my mom's always going on about." She hiccuped.

Bellamy's heart stopped as he listened to her talk. As her voice wobbled on the last part of her sentence, suddenly his heart was working again, beating erratically.

"Shit, Clarke," Bellamy groaned, an ache in his chest as he realized he was so close to having everything he wanted but it was still out of reach because this was definitely a conversation they should be having when Clarke was sober. Pain seared through his chest as the thought that Clarke might just be saying this because she was drunk floated across his mind.

"I'm sorry," Clarke whispered, and Bellamy could feel her start to tremble slightly. "I know I'm not your type, and you're my best friend, and that you're with Gina. I really shouldn't be thinking about any of this but I can't stop. I was out drinking tonight to try and make it stop but it just won't stop, Bellamy, it won't!"

"Clarke…" Bellamy started, concerned and heart still beating wildly. But he was interrupted by the blonde on his chest.

"Can we just sleep and then, in the morning, ignore everything I said?" Clarke pleads, sounding so completely miserable it was breaking Bellamy's heart.

Bellamy sighed but dropped it. First thing in the morning though, they'll sit down and talk about this. But, for now, he just wraps his arms around her and holds her snugly against him, falling asleep pretty quickly with the sounds of her soft snores and the warm, solid weight of her on his chest.

* * *

Bellamy woke up briefly a few hours later to the sight of Clarke sprawled out next to him, sleeping peacefully with her back to him. She had moved off of him sometime during her sleep but didn't go far and was loosely holding his hand over her stomach.

Blearily, he looked over at the alarm clock that was on his night table and groaned when he realized it was only just nearing 5am. He didn't have to go to work tomorrow- or today, he supposed- so he snuggled back into the bed, sliding an arm under Clarke's head and pulling her snugly against him.

He intertwined their fingers and tightened his hold on her waist. Clarke groaned happily, wiggling a little bit, and Bellamy felt himself drift off again, warmer and happier than he had been in a long time.

* * *

The next time he woke up, it was 11am and he was alone. Clarke's side of the bed was still warm, so she couldn't have been gone long. Bellamy was a bit unhappy that he hadn't woken up to her beside him, but then logic kicked in and it made sense. She had needed drunk cuddles, it hadn't meant anything. There was no reason for him to be upset that she wasn't there when he woke up.

He sat up and stretched, groaning as he worked the kinks out of his neck and back. He flopped back against the bed and took a deep breath, this time groaning because the scent of Clarke was now on his bed sheets and his pillow and well that certainly wasn't going to help him at all.

He heard sound and movement coming from their kitchen and got up to investigate. He thought about putting on a shirt but ultimately decided to just go as is.

Walking into the kitchen to the sight of Clarke in his sweatpants hanging low on her hips short-circuited his brain for a second and he needed to take a moment to compose himself. She was flipping something on the stove- by the scent, Bellamy guessed pancakes- and hadn't heard him come in.

He leant against the counter and folded his arms across his chest, "Morning."

Clarke whirled around at the sound of his sleep-roughened voice and froze slightly when she caught sight of him, shirtless and leaning casually against the counter.

"Uh, good morning," She said weakly, biting her lip, one of her nervous habits. "I, uh, wanted to make you an apology breakfast to say I'm sorry for being a drunk idiot last and forcing you to take care of me."

Bellamy didn't respond right away, instead gazing at her steadily as she shifted on her feet nervously, worrying lip in a way that was very distracting.

"No worries, Clarke," Bellamy finally replied, smiling at her softly. "Honestly, it was no big deal. How much of last night do you remember?"

Now it was Bellamy's turn to be nervous. Part of him wanted Clarke not to remember all the things she had told him last night, because he didn't know if he could handle hearing her say that they weren't true, that she was just drunk. However, the other part of him, the one filled with a tiny spark of hope, prayed that she remembered. And, not only remembered, but meant everything she had said.

"Uh," Clarke flushed darkly. "How much do you remember?"

Bellamy snorted, "Princess, I wasn't the one who was drunk. I remember everything."

At that, Clarke's shoulders sagged and her cheeks glowed even brighter. "I'm so sorry. I know that last night was beyond inappropriate of me. Shit, should I call Gina and apologize or something?"

Bellamy looked at Clarke, taking a moment to take in the way she was bouncing lightly on her toes. She had gone back to the stove and was sliding the last pancake onto the plate, setting aside the pan, away from the heat, and turning the stove off.

Clarke placed two plates piled high with chocolate chip banana pancakes- his favourite- on the counter. She also got the maple syrup from the cupboard and butter from the fridge. As she grabbed utensils, Clarke looked at Bellamy uneasily, who still hadn't said anything.

"Look, I'm sorry!" Clarke burst out suddenly, seemingly unable to handle the silence any longer. "I know that you didn't need to hear those things from me and I really hope you still want to be friends. I also hope that this doesn't affect your relationship with Gina because I know you really like her and I don't want to be the reason you're not happy. So, can we please forget all the things I said last night and just go back to the way things were? Please?"

Bellamy's heart broke at the desperate pleading in her voice and the beginnings of tears in her eyes. He couldn't take it anymore and took the utensils that were hanging limply in her hands, placing them on the counter and gathering her in his arms.

Clarke froze for just a slight second before she collapsed into his chest and wound her arms tightly around his middle. She was much shorter than him so her face was smushed against his sternum. His arms incased her, making her feel safe and warm, and she let herself soak up the feel of him before he came to his senses and pushed her away.

"I'm not with Gina anymore," Bellamy muttered after a few minutes of just holding Clarke. "She broke up with me because I was already in love with someone else."

"What?!" Clarke exclaimed, pulling back suddenly. She reached up and cupped his cheeks, searching his eyes. "Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me! What happened?"

Clarke suddenly realized the position she was in and made to pull back but before she could, Bellamy's hands came up to cover her hands with his. He nuzzled his cheek against her palm and hummed.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want to stress you out. You've been so busy with work lately and I didn't want to add on to that," Bellamy admitted shyly. "Besides, I wasn't even that upset about it. Because Gina was right. I am in love with someone else."

"Oh," Clarke breathed, "Well, I still think you should have told me. You're my best friend, Bell. I'm always going to be there for you. Screw work, you come first."

"Thanks, Clarke," Bellamy said, smiling warmly.

They stood like that for a few moments, neither of them saying anything, then Clarke pulled back. She slipped her hands from out underneath his hands, marvelling briefly at the way his hands almost swallowed hers.

"So, um," Clarke started hesitantly, clearing her throat nervously. "What's she like?"

Bellamy's brows drew together in confusion. "What's who like?"

"The woman you're in love with," Clarke said humorously, a slight bitter undercurrent to her words.

Bellamy stared at Clarke for what felt like hours. How could she still not get that he was talking about her? Either she was just that oblivious or she really didn't think that he could feel that way towards her. Which was crazy, given that she was the ultimate catch in his eyes. Strong, fiercely loyal, smart, and kind. She laughed at his dumb history jokes and watched documentaries with him even though he knew she wasn't always interested in the topic. She actually listened to his commentary whenever they watched something and never seemed annoyed. All of his other girlfriends had either just ignored him or had asked him to stop, claiming that they wanted to pay attention to whatever was playing. But not Clarke. She never complained, never asked him to shut up. In fact, she would ask him questions or ask him to further explain something to her whenever they watched something she didn't fully understand. She was an incredible artist and he loved to watch her work. The passion and love she put into her art showed in every single one of her pieces.

He was her biggest fan, and he thought she had known that.

Not to mention the fact she was fucking gorgeous. She was tiny and his tall, large frame practically engulfed her. He loved her curves; loved how she was soft and huggable. Loved the softness of her stomach and the plushness of her thighs. Loved how she just seemed to fit perfectly against him. He loved her hair, the golden strands that were as soft as they looked and he loved running his fingers through them on the days she let herself fall asleep with her head in his lap.

He loved how she argued with him and never took any of his shit. He knew that he never had to worry that she was just doing something to please him. If she didn't agree with him or didn't like something he did, she would tell him, and tell him bluntly. She was more honest than anyone he had ever met, other than his sister. Octavia had a special way of just telling everyone the way things were, claiming it was a waste of time to sugar coat things.

Bellamy could see himself grow old with her. He could see their first house, covered in Clarke's amazing artwork. He could picture them starting a family; the thought of her pregnant, stomach swollen with his child, sparked something inside him he had never felt before. With a few of his old girlfriends, he could sort of pictured having a future with them. But never with the clarity he could with Clarke. With her, he could clearly see all of those moments. He could see everything that she had said last night and it felt right. He wanted that. He wanted Clarke. For the rest of his life.

"She's the best person I know," Bellamy stated honestly. "She's everything I've ever wanted in a partner. She's strong, smart, fucking gorgeous, and I love her so much it hurts."

"Ah, well, I can't wait to meet her. She sounds amazing," Clarke croaked out, voice breaking as she gave him a weak smile. She swallowed roughly, trying to her voice to work around the lump in her throat.

Bellamy decided to just be blunt about it, since he was trying to hint at it and she just wasn't getting it. She must have really convinced herself that he couldn't feel the same way if she could justify the way he was treating her as platonic.

"Clarke, I'm talking about _you_ ," Bellamy said clearly, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to hold his gaze. He could see the moment it finally clicked in her mind, when she finally realized that everything he said had really been about her.

Immediately, Clarke wound her arms around Bellamy's neck and pulled his lips down to hers. Bellamy kissed back eagerly, letting her control the kiss and just enjoying the feel of her soft lips against his.

She pulled back after a moment but Bellamy chased her lips, causing her to moan softly and melt against him. After what felt like an eternity but what was, in reality, only a few minutes, Clarke pulled back again. This time Bellamy let her, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

Clarke hummed lowly, eyes still closed and a small smile on her lips.

Bellamy was content to stay like that, holding her and swaying together slightly but soon enough Clarke's eyes fluttered open.

"Hi," Bellamy whispered, tugging gently on a piece of her hair and then tucking it behind her ear.

"Hey," Clarke breathed in the same soft voice as Bellamy. She nuzzled his hand and he smiled. "I'm glad it's me."

"Me too," Bellamy replied and kissed her again.

Eventually, they had to stop kissing because they were both smiling too much, but it was still utterly perfect.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought in the comments below! ;)**

 **And, if you have any prompts that work for drunk Clarke, please send them my way!**


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